Cleansing
by NevaRyadL
Summary: Vilkas starts acting strange and it's soon concluded that his beast blood is the cause. Him and his husband Gunnar go on an adventure to cure the knight of his curse, but will it really be that easy? Or will the lord of the hunt have something to say about losing one of his promising hunters? Sequel(ish) to Old Scales!
1. Chapter 1

Hey pups! Alright, so the other day I was thinking... I needed something slightly large to work on besides school work before my brains came out my ears. So I started writing another adventure with Gunnar and Vilkas! Bonus? This is probably going to be akin in length to Old Scales only with a great deal more smut and a touch less swearing. So I present to you, Gunnar and Vilkas' adventures in cleansing Vilkas' (and probably Farkas') beast blood! There will be anguish! There will be men on men! There will be Hircine(more then likely)! And most of all there will be that beautiful father/ age kink!

WARNINGS! This story will contain m/m romance, swearing, violence, a few spoilers and a fairly strange kink! If you do not like or agree with any of these things then please DO NOT READ this story. However if you do agree then please, enjoy the story!

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When presented with stacked odd, animals are often presented with two natural born instincts. These instincts are often labeled 'flight' or 'fight'.

Flight is used to flee the situation or escape an enemy while fight is used to take on the situation head on or face an enemy head on. And while the two may seemed dissimilar, they are actually wired to try and provide the same goal of 'survival'.

To take flight or to stay and fight, so that the animal may live to see another day even if those days are miserable and weary, is bred in the mightiest of warriors, the wisest of mages and the cleverest of rouges.

What seemed like a long time ago, Vilkas had felt no shame in fleeing from a battle with three Trolls because the odds had been impossible when it was just him and Ria. Now, as he faced down a Blood Dragon, his very being screamed to fight beside the aged warrior at his side because he had the utmost in confidence in their combined skill.

"Ready for this sonny?" Gunnar grinned as the Blood Dragon growled something out in a strange tongue, likely something about invading his territory and how he was going to cook them alive.

"As long as I fight besides you" Vilkas said firmly, raising his shield and sword.

The dragon said something briskly with rising ire, likely losing what miniscule patience it had with them.

"Aren't you a romantic?" Gunnar teased.

The dragon took a deep breath in and the two warriors dove to the sides just as he spewed out a word which was quickly followed by gouts of fire erupting from his throat.

Gunnar was able to hit the ground and use his momentum to quickly roll until he could get to his feet before dashing forward and swinging with his greatsword, slicing open a large gash along a small sliver of unprotected skin between plates. The dragon's great head turned, aiming the river of flames pouring from its great maw at Gunnar, which was all the time Vilkas needed to dash forward and jab his own sword into the mirror patch of skin on the other side.

Bleating something in dragon tongue, the dragon slammed his head into the knight only to meet a large shield, whose strength and weight were enough to deter the attempted attack but enough to push the knight back a few feet.

"_Mortal fools_" The dragon growled in mortal tongue before turning to growl at the knight as the aged warrior joined him by his side.

The dragon was about to spout out a death threat and boast of his skills when he saw what the knight's shield was made of. It was a certain, off-white material that he recognized from the dragon hunters of old.

"_That shield_" He snarled.

"A gift, from one of your ill kind" Gunnar called brazenly before rapping his knuckles across the bone surface "Pure dragon bone"

The dragon let out an enraged howl, eyes narrowing in seething rage, sucking in the breath to let out the mastered form of Fire Breath. However, Gunnar just sucked in a hearty breath as well, his smaller lungs easily filling faster than the dragons before he Shouted:

"FUS ROH DAH!"

The dragon was actually sent head over tail, spiraling through the off white snow and sent tumbling into a patch of trees that bent and broke under his great weight. The mighty beast groaned as he tried to right himself, but just as he was able to get his head up he spied the aged warrior flying through the air, having jumped a perfect arc, holding his greatsword in his hands and smiling like a sly fox. The dragon didn't even have time to mourn before the aged warrior completed his arc and impaled his mighty weapon through his skull, ending his life quickly.

Gunnar waited until the corpse stopped twitching and for the flesh to start peeling away like lit paper before he turned around and faced the knight with a tired smile.

"You could have let me help more" Vilkas grouched, though a bit playfully.

"And put your cute face in harm's way? Never" Gunnar teased, wrenching his blade free from the dragon's skull.

Vilkas only sighed before turning his gaze towards the dragon corpse. The flesh was falling away into paper like scraps, like someone had lit a fire on the inside and the outside was nothing more than paper. Strange bending lights were also building up, the dragon's soul being ready to be eaten by Gunnar like so many countless others.

But it was still a sight to see, watching those colored lights swell up and then pulled apart like threads to wrap around the man he loved, surrounding him in that beautiful glow, only to be absorbed within seconds. And then the way Gunnar's lone eye glowed brightly with the strange and overwhelming power of a dragon for a moment before it faded back into its natural and beloved color.

"Like what you see sonny?" Gunnar teased.

"Always, dragons are impressive" Vilkas smirked, trying his hardest not to laugh when the older Nord's face fell.

"I meant me" Gunnar muttered.

"Oh, you" Vilkas shrugged "You're you"

"You aiming for a spanking sonny? Cause I'm sorely tempted to bend you over my knee and give it to you"

"You'll have to catch me first" Vilkas replied cheekily.

"Hitting that rebellious phase eh? Looks like I'll have to teach you a lesson" Gunnar growled through a heated smile, wicked intent lighting his eyes.

"Oh really old man?" Vilkas grinned.

And then the old man was basically atop him, curved mouth only an centimeters away and his large body giving off a delicious warmth that Vilkas just wanted to press himself against all night long. A thought that brought a different sort of warmth to his crotch.

However, instead of the old man simply giving him a kiss that would get him all hot and bothered and then the two running back to Raven Rock to steal away a room for the night, Gunnar just flashed the knight a large and mischievous grin. And before Vilkas could realize that the man was up to no good, a swipe at his feet sent him to his knees. A leg pressed against his chest and an arm pushed him forward until he was bent over it. And by that time his brain had caught up with him and just as he started flailing he snapped

"Really?!"

"I told you I would, and you did say 'catch me'" He heard Gunnar chuckle.

The knight had all of three seconds before the skirt of his armor was pulled up and a large and warm hand was on his ass, thick fingers squeezing ever inch of the flesh they found.

"And I'll be Oblivion damned if I let you get away with that kinda lip"

"Please don't"

SMACK!

The sharp crack was quickly followed by a warming stinging sensation and a building of need that made the knight blush harshly.

Here he was, a fully grown man respected for being a part of the Companions and his skill and for being the one tied to Gunnar, and he was being aroused by the rather fatherly like act his husband was performing.

SMACK!

Vilkas yelped, though his blush darkened and his breathing increased. A noted discomfort was also arising from the front of his pants, which only deepened the blush.

"Now, are you going to give me any more lip sonny?" Gunnar nearly purred, fingertips just barely grazing the cloth covered but reddened skin.

Vilkas whimpered, having exceptionally hard time thinking past the want for a good romp.

"Come on now, speak clearly" Gunnar teased.

"F-fuck you" Vilkas groaned, immediately knowing the consequences of his words.

SMACK!

This time, Vilkas moaned and rather loudly since he knew they had no audience. And that got him a playful groping from Gunnar, who sounded like he was enjoying himself greatly.

"Now, are you going to give me anymore lip?"

"D-depends" Vilkas panted, hands digging into the ground for both stabilization and for something to grab "What happens if I say yes?"

"Then I'll give you a treat for being a good boy" Gunnar purred.

"And if I say no?"

"Then I keep at it until you do, or my arm gets tired, whichever comes first"

While he certainly enjoyed Gunnar acting like a father, he wasn't exactly one for pain and the problem in his pants certainly was getting painful. Adding a few smacks on the arse was more likely to kill the mood then keep it going. Not to mention, with jobs and the passage to this strange land Vilkas hadn't exactly been able to fully enjoy his husband for about a week and his body was close to crying from the need.

"I-I'm done"

"Good boy"

Vilkas was allowed up and the first thing he did was almost fully tackle his tease for a husband and lock their mouths together in a rough, wet and passionate kiss that sent them toppling over into the snow.

Gunnar's eye was open in shock from the rough treatment, because he certainly hadn't expected Vilkas to attack him like this. He had expected his knight to writhe with a boner for the few miles back to Raven Rock and then allow Gunnar to have his wicked way with him. This rough treatment was… strange though admittedly fucking hot.

Vilkas let him go with a wet pop before sitting up to straddle Gunnar's waist. The knight started restlessly trying to undo the buckles to his armor, face flushed with desire.

"Okay stop!" Gunnar snapped, grabbing Vilkas' wrists and stopping him.

"What?" Vilkas nearly whined.

"Look, while I love this feisty side of you it's just… you've been acting strangely for a week now" Gunnar tried to explain while not grinding up against the sweet ass pressed against his crotch "It's like you've gone into heat or something"

"And you're complaining why?"

"I can understand horny, you you're about to strip bare ass naked in the coldest part of Solstheim" Gunnar said firmly.

The two stared down each other for a good long moment, a disturbing thought forming in their minds that quickly killed the lust in Vilkas. Said knight's face fell a bit after he realized what was wrong.

"Tomorrow's the full moon" He muttered

"And you're beast is going nuts" Gunnar sighed, sitting up so he could wrap his arms around his shaken night "Cause we've been busy lately"

True. Vilkas' burning wolf spirit seemed to be sated most of the time because of his regular romping with Gunnar and because the aged warrior usually kept him busy with jobs. He didn't have time or energy to worry over the beast blood flowing in his veins. It seemed that the first break in even just one of the things consuming his time and energy was enough to power his wolf to do something like… like… like stripping bare ass naked in the coldest part of Solstheim.

"What are… what are we going to do?" Vilkas asked, wrapping his arms around his husband.

"First, I'm gonna drag you to the nearest inn bed and fuck you as hard as I can into the mattress"

Only Gunnar could get away with saying something so dirty but in such a loving tone.

"And then… I think it's about time we had a chat about cleansing you of your beast blood"


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone! Alright my pups, first off! This chapter contains m/m smut so if you DO NOT LOOK/READ! Haters/trollers will be mocked and ignored so don't bother, if not then please enjoy

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He had been told that to lose the wolf spirit was losing half of one's senses.

Your eyesight dulls and becomes limited, unable to see through the trees as you ran free in them. Your sense of smell becomes weaker, unable to smell the frightened blood of your prey. Your sense of taste dulls, unable to enjoy the fresh kill. Your touch loses its keenness, unable to detect the slightest changes in the land as you hunt. Your hearing becomes hampered and unable to hear the rapidly bleating heart of the creature you have labeled prey.

It was one of the things that scared Vilkas most about losing his wolf spirit, one of the things that made his hesitate about cleansing his blood of the foul curse.

It made him wonder if he would be as good a Companion as he had been before, or if losing that wolf spirit would lessen the skills he had built on that supernatural edge. Or he was even a decent warrior without that edge.

Not to mention the Companions were built around that curse. What if they cleansed the beast blood from the Companions? Would they fall apart without the Circle there? Could they simply function as a warrior's guild? Could they even keep interest without the mystery and lore of the Circle and its members' darkest secrets?

And what of the others? Would _they_ even be able to function without the beast blood? Alea would likely crumble as a person with how much she relies on her beast blood for much of everything in her daily life. And Farkas… Nine bless his soul but the man would likely hardly miss it, but would he suffer as a warrior if he lost his beast blood? Did he even care?

All the questions rattling away in the knight's head gave him a terrible headache, but they had to be thought about. After all, Gunnar was a man of his word, so he would cure the Circle of their curse even if it meant traversing into the Lord of the Hunt's very realm and challenging him to a duel.

But surely there were benefits to it? Like a good night's rest for the first time in years? Vilkas would likely sleep for a straight week after the damned curse was lifted to make up for all the sleep he had lost. And to sleep peaceful besides his husband sounded like a lovely idea…

But what about Gunnar's nightmares? Sure, now that they were together, married and more then relatively happy, he still experienced them every so often. And with his curse preventing a restful night's sleep, Vilkas was always there to help sooth him through it and comfort him afterwards (once wiping away the tears from his cheeks as he sobbed over some long forgotten memory). What would happen if he lost that sleeplessness? Would Gunnar suffer alone until he was thrown from his memories into the real world?

No, surely after years of experiencing the curse Vilkas would likely be enough of a slight sleeper that anything Gunnar did would wake him up.

Saying goodbye to the random bouts of heat would be lovely. There wouldn't anymore awkward moments where he needed to be professional and then all of a sudden he wanted to rut and fuck like a wild beast. Or where he needed to get a job done well and thoroughly and suddenly he's ripping through enemies quickly and sloppily only so he could get a chance to give himself some relief. Or… the times he… well… the times with Gunnar that he acted more like a wanton whore in some cheap tavern rather than acted like a respected warrior in the Companions and married to the Harbinger of the Companions.

Then again… with Gunnar… it really was enjoyable… and Gunnar never called him any degrading names other then Pup and sonny… and the man had some supernatural stamina. And certainly the old man liked it when Vilkas was practically begging to be fucked silly. Vilkas didn't mind the thorough release…

No, their sex life was good enough that they didn't need his bouts of heat. No matter how earth shattering they were…

Ah! Not waking up in the forests covered in blood, animal guts and wearing his smalls by the barest threads would be nice. And that awful taste in his mouth that remained for days afterwards, that would be pleasant to get rid of… forever. And not having to look for caches of hidden clothing or suffer trying to get into a hold in get his under-things would save a lot of headache and embarrassment. And jumping practically naked into an icy cold river to wash blood was never an endearing memory and happily tossed.

…Then again Gunnar had been trying to make the 'Morning-After' experience more pleasant for him by finding him in the morning with clothes, a warm blanket and some light but tasty breakfast. And walking him back home to wash him down in a warm bath and then keep him warm until he got used to his human form again was a sweet and much appreciated gesture on his part.

DAMMIT!

"Something wrong?"

It took a moment for Vilkas to realize that some time during his thoughts that he had gone quite cross in the face, his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. He carefully relaxed his facial muscles until he had a neutral expression again before addressing Gunnar.

"Thinking"

"Bad ale?"

"What?"

"Your expression was quite sour"

Vilkas allowed himself a small smile at the small jest

"Nothing you need to worry about"

"Come on sonny" Gunnar asked, pulling the knight closer by their conjoined hands until the anguishing man was walking besides him "You can tell me"

"…" Vilkas attempted several times to make the words of a dozen lies spill from his mouth, but seeing the genuine care in Gunnar's finely aged features made him feel guilty for even thinking about lying to him.

"About the beast blood" Vilkas finally admitted "And… how it will all change should you succeed"

"… A fair thing to think about" Gunnar said thoughtfully.

They walked in silence towards the growing lights of Raven Rock, Vilkas thinking about all those questions rattling around in his head and Gunnar thinking about what Vilkas could possibly been thinking about. And with their thoughts so distracted they were able to make it to Raven Rock in what seemed like a short time though the sun had already set and the sky darkened slightly.

The Dunmer city really did have its charms. The strange architecture, the strange vegetation, the strange homebrews, the strangely intriguing wild life. Even seeing so many Dunmer in one place was both odd and fascinating. The knight though idly if Gunnar would agree to sightseeing the next day, it would be a pleasant change from what they normally did and he couldn't help but feel like he had hardly had time alone with his husband with the recent onslaught of jobs. Perhaps it would have been nice to simply strolling around in the strange hold.

Once they were in town, where the merchants were just heading home or to the tavern, Gunnar led them to the Retching Netch and then to a rented room for the night. And once away from the prying eyes of the local Dunmer population, they stripped from their dust ridden armor and then cleaned it before placing it neatly off to the side so that they could do the same to their selves.

And once all the mundane things were over, Gunnar scooped up his angsty knight and tossed him into bed, just to follow a moment later, and covering his slightly smaller frame with his own.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over anything sonny" Gunnar murmured, placing a kiss over Vilkas' torn heart "It'll be done and you'll feel so much better afterwards"

"… I can't help but think about the things I lose" Vilkas admitted shamefully.

"Nothing to be ashamed off sonny" Gunnar said softly, placing another tender kiss on the knight's chest.

"But… I've wanted to get rid of this damned curse for awhile now… and now that I have the chance I… I keep having second thoughts about it"

"Hmm, then how about tonight we think only about us?" Gunnar suggested before squirming up a bit to kiss Vilkas's face "And tomorrow we'll worry about it, after all it's not like I said I'd go running and curing you right away, damn, I still gotta see if Farkas or Alea got anything to say about it"

And before his knight could find something else to give second thoughts about, Gunnar stole his husband's lips in a kiss.

"Just tonight, no angst, and no second thoughts" He murmured against Vilkas' all too willing mouth.

The knight just nodded. Already his thoughts focusing more and more on his silver fox, his body nearly humming with the thought of what was to come.

"Good, now" Gunnar bent over the side of the bed, likely rummaging through his bag "All I need you to do is lay back and enjoy this"

He straightened himself back and placed another kiss on his husband's lips. Gently kissing him at first, and then increasing the pressure a bit at a time, going slowly as to make sure that he thoroughly saturated his lover's thoughts. He was going to make sure that his little knight only thought about him that night, even if it meant taking it slow and steady.

He set to work with his free hand, using it to message across Vilkas' chest and stomach, working out worried knots and tense muscles until the knight finally relaxed at his touch, going nearly boneless under Gunnar's attentive touch. And when he was sure that his knight wasn't wired like a trap, the older Nord let his hand become a bit naughtier, letting his rough and calloused fingertips brush teasingly over the knight's nipples but never straying for more than a second or so.

Meanwhile he had introduced teeth and a bit of tongue into their kiss. Occasionally nipping at the knight's lips, sometimes licking at them, anything to make the younger Nord make those lustful little gasps and moans that made the older one's blood rush and want to fuck his perfect, angsty knight all night long. But… he had a goal to accomplish and he wasn't going to let it get away from him because of the heat of the moment, but by the way Vilkas was squirming he was getting impatient, so the old man indulged him a bit.

He pressed his tongue forward into Vilkas' mouth, inviting his lusty little knight to play to which the knight eagerly agreed. Their tongues curled around each other, tasting each other in a slow and intimate manner that had the blood rushing to Vilkas' already reddened cheeks.

Gunnar had felt Vilkas grow hard against his stomach, quickly and surely with his gentle touches. Just as gentling loving Vilkas had made himself go hard, aching and weeping to fill his knight up. And just letting them both go without stimulation while Gunnar was working his magic over his knight wouldn't be any fun, and Vilkas certainly was being a very good boy at the moment. So carefully shifting so he wouldn't break their increasing wet kiss, Gunnar lined up their pelvises and their hard cocks and then slowly grinded his hips down.

It made Vilkas moan into his mouth, something that the old Nord drank like wine before doing it again and again with the same results. Gunnar kept grinding down on his knight, keeping his pace even and steady until Vilkas suddenly pulled himself free of their kiss. He was panting loudly, cheeks flushed and his eyes a bit watery but ever so filled with lust. The look was almost enough for Gunnar to just lose it, but he managed not to…. Barely.

"G-Gunnar" Vilkas managed needful like between ragged breaths.

"Hmm?" Gunnar nearly purred, bending his head to mark his husband's throat with tiny red hickies to keep some semblance of control.

"I need you" Vilkas managed, one hand grabbing at Gunnar's broad back and the other cupping the back of the aged warrior's head "Badly, I need you, inside me"

"If you insist sonny" Gunnar murmured against Vilkas' throat.

With on hand he fumbled for the corked bottle of lubricant he had placed off to the side while the other worked the strings to both their breechcloths. After fumbling with both for a few minutes, he managed to snag the little bottle and undo the strings, leaving just shucking the bothersome cloths to the side. He paused a moment to groan as his hardness rubbed against Vilkas' before hooking one of said knight's legs over his shoulder so he could better reach what he was after.

"Gunnar" Vilkas moaned as Gunnar popped the cork of the bottle and poured the liquid on two of his fingers.

The old warrior just gave the younger Nord a sly grin before pressing a slippery finger against the knight's entrance, rubbing his rough fingertip against the twitching ring of muscle, saturating it with the slippery liquid and making Vilkas grunt and groan.

"Relax for me sonny or we'll never get to the fun bits"

With some tremendous effort, Vilkas forced his muscles to relax until Gunnar could plunge his finger in. And feeling something finally pierce him made the knight moan rather loudly, though not being able to have any sort of intimate fun with his husband for a week was probably to blame. Or perhaps the reason he had felt such need before was to blame. But truly none of it mattered. They were here and they were at it again and he had been told that he was only to think of that, and that certainly wasn't hard.

Gunnar started to slowly ease his finger out and then slowly thrust it back in, then out and then back in, slowly building a faster and faster pace, watching Vilkas' face the entire time to make sure he didn't end things too quickly. After, an explosive release was much better than just doing it again and again, and he was going to make damn sure that his knight couldn't think straight after coming this time.

Vilkas on the other hand was making it really hard, using the leg over Gunnar's shoulder as leverage so he could thrust himself on that finger, trying to get it to hit his sweet spot, panting and groaning hotly. Generally he was making it hard for Gunnar to not just thrust into him and fuck him blind, but Gunnar was patient, to an extent. So he started quickening the pace even faster, twisting his wrist to add a pleasant twist that had Vilkas panting instead of trying to rush.

"That's it, just relax and enjoy sonny" Gunnar purred, pausing to carefully work a second finger in, Vilkas grunting from the slight stretching "Relax and enjoy it"

Vilkas actually managed to nod before Gunnar started working on stretching the twitching passage open a bit further. He also managed to blush harder than before, face turning blood red as he was bit by bit opened up and Gunnar couldn't help but grin at the beautiful mess he was making. And he was going to enjoy that beautiful mess soon.

And that soon came quickly, as Vilkas again tried to impale himself further and harder on those fingers, making hot needy noises from the back of his throat and his eyes watering with need.

"P-please, please" He begged.

"Please what?" Gunnar teased.

"Please…. Please" He sucked in a breath "Please fuck me"

"Since you asked so nicely"

Gunnar pulled his fingers out with an obscenely wet pop while letting Vilkas' leg slid bonelessly to the bed, giving him the free hands he needed to pour some lubricant over his aching hardness and then place the weeping head against the ready and wet hole.

"Ready sonny?"

Vilkas whined loudly, unable to form words and Gunnar knew the answer. And carefully he pushed forward, overcoming the slight resistance of Vilkas' anus and carefully easing his way into the writhing body beneath him. Though it wasn't easy, with Vilkas tensing up and clamping down hard on him, Gunnar had to stop a few times and wait patiently for Vilkas to relax again before he could push forward again. But he finally managed to full sheath himself in his husband, both panting hard and faces flushed, Vilkas enjoying the sheer feeling of being so full and Gunnar enjoying the tight heat around his cock.

They remained still for a moment, both a bit overwhelmed by the sensations they created for each other. And then Vilkas started getting a little impatient, trying to move his hips a little to get the older Nord to start moving only to be thwarted by his own constricted muscles and a pained hiss from Gunnar.

"Relax" Gunnar grunted, stilling Vilkas' restless hips with his hands.

Whimpering, Vilkas stopped his restless hips and tried focusing on relaxing his tensed muscles little by little until he could start moving his hips and feel the hard organ inside him rubbed against his inner walls and against the sweet spot inside him and had him seeing stars and moaning and blushing anew and had Gunnar groaning loudly above him.

With Vilkas loosened up again, Gunnar pulled back a bit and then thrust forward again, his hips smacking Vilkas' arse. They groaned in union and Gunnar lost all resolve. He needed to feel his knight's hot insides around him, needed to hear those hot little moans and groan, needed to see that perfect body muscles move perfectly in tandem with him. And he definitely needed to release deep in Vilkas, marking him as his own and giving him something to think about other than that damned cursed blood of his.

Gripping the knight's hip in an almost bruising grip, he started picking up his pace, thrusting faster and harder. Vilkas moaned loudly, borderline screaming, from the delicious friction of his insides being used in such a way, arms coming up to wrap around the back of Gunnar's neck and pulling him down to offer him his wet and panting mouth, which the older Nord eagerly indulged in.

It was getting a little loud, their fucking, skin smacking each other, the wet sounds of their kissing and the low shuddering groans of the bed under the abuse along with any groans that got away from the two.

Surprisingly, it was Gunnar that came first, only have a second's warning of his full balls bunching up before he found himself emptying himself into his lover with a hearty groan, sight nearly go white as his mind blanked from the pleasure. And he had only a second to vaguely worry about what he was going to do with Vilkas before his gushing manhood was suddenly clamped down on and Vilkas and practically screaming out his own orgasm, white seed painting his heaving chest.

They remained like that for a moment, enjoying the mind numbing pleasure of their respective orgasms until Gunnar found himself spent and he collapsed forward onto his knight, breathing hard and taking in the scent of the sweaty, sexed up knight, hearing the harsh breathing of his knight beneath him and even the stickiness of their bodies.

After awhile their breathing relaxed a bit, quieting down until they were breathing regularly again. And feeling the sweat and come cool, Gunnar managed to get his jelly limbs moving enough to drag a blanket over them and shift his hips enough to pull himself out of his husband, who shuddered a bit before snuggling up against Gunnar.

"That was amazing" Vilkas managed, likely to not have a voice in a few hours

"Glad you think so" Gunnar murmured.

They snuggled for a moment, simply enjoying the embrace

"What, you're done?"

The muffled voice from the room next door made the two tense and stare at the wall that it came from behind only to hear some muffled giggling and two bodies quickly scrambling away, leaving the two to stare awkwardly at the wall.

It was Gunnar that burst out laughing first, first cracking a grin and then just loudly laughing joyfully. And after a moment of wondering what in the hell was wrong with him, Vilkas smiled and then started laughing as well. And together they laughed and held each other tight

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Hey pups, hoped you enjoy this chapter (I would have uploaded it yesterday but my computer decided to be a derp... for 13 hours soooooo) Anyway, please reviews/rate/read because remember, authors go into writing frenzies when you review for them~ Night pups


	3. Chapter 3

_Forests are usually full of life. Wither it be in the leaves that rustle in the gentle breezes, in the bark that grows slowly with time, to the smallest creatures to the largest and proudest predators that stalked through the dry underbrush._

_This forest… was not alive._

_Every tree stood bare and stark like skeletons stuck fast into the ground, their long, bony limbs reaching towards the black, starless night. There were patches of bare, spiny little limbs that had once been bushes and brush that had once hid the smallest creatures from the largest, now barely hiding the skeletal remains of those creatures, lying scatted about like trash._

_This forest… was not alive._

"_Of course it's not my little hunter"_

_He spun around and found himself faced with a pure white stag with cold dead eyes and radiating a power so fierce that he found himself on his knees, or perhaps he was simply shrinking to down to a size that was more appropriate for the strange stag._

"_No, you are on your knees before your lord and nothing more"_

_How_

"_Because I know all the thoughts of all my hunters" _

_He looked at the strange stag and suddenly it became quite clear who he was faced with._

"_Yes, I am the Daedric Lord of the Hunt, Hircine, and you are one of my strongest hunters Vilkas" The stag lowered his head to be more eye level with Vilkas, dead eyes almost glaring at him "Tell me, why do you want to change that?"_

_Paralyzed with a strange fear, as though he were facing a dragon bound to a rock, Vilkas could not get the words to form. It was though his mouth was never made to form them._

"_Check yourself my young hunter, you are as you should be"_

_Vilkas lifted a hand to examine and a distorted gasp managed to escape his lips._

_He was staring at his hand as if he were fully transformed, fur, pads, talons and everything._

"_And you shall remain that way if you keep the course your on my young and foolish hunter" Hircine said quite calmly though the threat was still present "No man, not even your precious Gunnar can stop a god"_

_At the mention of his mate he snarled. Lord or not, no one threatened his Gunnar._

"_How childish, claiming rights over the god's play things"_

_A brittle and dead wind rushed through the trees and suddenly the forest was alive again, or at least filled with it._

_Thousands of black shapes of snarling, roaring, and brandishing wicked talons, teeth and other natural weapons._

"_If you wish to bear your fangs at me, I shall bear 'my' fangs at you"_

_And thousands of predators launched themselves at Vilkas_

* * *

Vilkas started awake, but it took several agonizing minutes for his body to comprehend that he was truly in his human form. Nothing felt right, like he was supposed to be feeling it like an animal, all raw sensations with no human logic.

But eventually he was brought back, slowly becoming aware of his body.

First thing he felt was something rough and warm continuously touching his face and the warmth of his body from being under the covers for so long. He felt sticky and hot and uncomfortable, especially with this strange hot weight pressed against his side.

Then he felt the horrid dryness of his throat, like he had been screaming or something none stop until his throat finally gave way. Taking in breath hurt, and he was breathing rather hard for some reason.

And then he became aware that he was crying, his chest heaving with every sob and tears streaking down his cheeks, constantly stopped by something rough and warm.

Finally the sensations combined together and everything rushed back to him.

He was in Solstheim with Gunnar. They had killed a dragon with the bounty on its head and then spent the night together for the first time in a week, slaking some of the heat in his blood for awhile.

So, why was he crying again?

He opened his bleary eyes, barely able to make out anything through the tears. Something dark and flesh colored came briefly into his field of vision and that rough and warm thing brushed against his wet cheeks, taking away the tears in such a loving and tender fashion that it could have only had been Gunnar.

His sobbing finally settled into confused hiccups and he was able to blink away the tears enough to see Gunnar hovering over him, nothing but tender worry on his finely aged face.

"You awake Vilkas?" Gunnar asked softly.

His throat too dry to say anything, Vilkas nodded a little bit. And Gunnar looked more than a little relieved to see that, relaxing greatly.

"You had me worried there" Gunnar admitted, dipping his head to plant a tender kiss on Vilkas' forehead "Thought you were… thought you were…"

He did not need to finish and Vilkas did not need to hear it to know his lover's fear.

Gunnar helped him sit up and suddenly Vilkas wanted nothing more than to hide in his lover's arms. He just wanted to get away from this damned curse, from wrathful dark gods, from this whole mess because it always seemed like Gunnar was immortal and unstoppable and so much like the pillar of strength that children envisioned their fathers to be like. And just like the father Vilkas kept seeing Gunnar as, it seemed like Gunnar could do the impossible and save him from this nightmare.

Gunnar slipped his arms around his shaking little knight and pulled him into a tight hug.

"You had me so scared" He whispered against Vilkas' hair "Screaming like you were… I thought… you… don't ever do that again"

* * *

Hircine 'smiled' as Gunnar and Vilkas took towards the woods of Solstheim, watching from the form of the hawk that he had taken.

His little hunter would suffer much more than a simple nightmare if he kept working towards a cure for his gift. Really, giving away such a thing should have been logically idiotic.

He watched Gunnar sling a comforting arm around his hunter.

And so would that old priest, the Nine be damned!

Spreading his temporary wings, Hircine took flight. He was going to make this transformation for his little hunter far more enjoyable, the kind of enjoyable that would make him rethink about losing his gift

* * *

Hey guys, sorry for the short chapter but I'm still pretty much banned from my computer, but I hoped you liked this tidbit. Until next time my pups!


	4. Chapter 4

"So we let you run wild around here for awhile then we go home and get this whole curse business settled behind us" Gunnar said as Vilkas started at the straps to his chest plate "Problem solved"

"What about Alea, she'll start up about the curse/gift thing again" Vilkas pointed out, fingers never missing with the straps "She'll raise all sorts of Oblivion about it"

"Yeah, but I'm sure with a well thought out argument she'll come around" Gunnar grinned.

"Flashing everyone a smile doesn't always work and I swear to the Nine that if you walk around half naked again, I'll castrate you with our rings" Vilkas snapped.

"Alright! Alright, I'll think of something else"

With a slightly satisfied grunt, Vilkas handed his undone breast plate to Gunnar before starting on the rest of his armor. Gunnar hummed in thought as he was handed each one, thinking about how he could reason with the fiery red haired Nord enough to let at least the twins cure themselves.

He was not like the old Harbinger in where he could go at her like wild animals, at least not without dying or getting the curse himself. And she was iron clad on her ideals and opinions. So perhaps… perhaps taking her on in her werewolf form was not that bad of an idea. If she saw that even her mighty werewolf form could be taken down by a human, an ex priest none the less, then perhaps it would change her opinion of the curse just enough to

Vilkas had at this point finished with all his armor and briskly stripped himself of his undershirt, exposing his chest to the humid, ashy air.

To… what was he thinking about again?

Nine be damned, if his little knight did not just take the words from his mouth every time he peeled away the armor. From his well defined muscles to fine dusting hair across his arms, chest and stomach. And damn, the line that defined the difference between his hip and crotch was just peeking from the waist of his trousers.

Too busy ogling Gunnar completely missed being called for until Vilkas snapped his finger in front of the old warrior's eye.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes and sighed

"I asked if you had thought of something"

Gunnar thought for a moment, trying to grasp at the idea that had been there only moments ago before his mind had wondered. But all he could really think about was his husband was standing there shirtless and about to lose the pants.

"Uh… I've got ideas… working them down, I mean out" Gunnar managed without staring like an old pervert.

His little knight just rolled his eyes again before pulling Gunnar in close and pressing his face into the slightly stubbly, strong throat of the old warrior.

"Old pervert" He sighed against the warm skin.

"Pervert? You're the cock tease"

Vilkas gave a grunt of laughter before playfully pushing the old man away with a slight smile.

"Just be back here by morning tomorrow"

"And miss seeing you buck ass naked? Not a chance" Gunnar grinned.

Vilkas sighed, muttering about old perverts before quickly stripping himself of his pants and running off into the woods, leaving Gunnar to neatly stack the knight's armor and take a seat by a tree.

Little did Vilkas know that Gunnar did not usually come in from their resting place to find him in the morning, but rather waited in one spot and then went looking as soon as light broke. While he knew it would bother Vilkas, Gunnar did it ever full moon, because the very thought that his lover was out there, out of his mind and acting like an animal, made him edgy and nervous. He had tried once to wait at home only to end up at the forest's edge before midnight.

While this fretting was something a parent should have done with a child, Gunnar could not help himself. He did not share in this curse and thus could not fully understand it, and thus he could not understand the full extent it affected someone. He only knew that his Vilkas was miserable and wanted out, and he had the means to lessen and completely ease his misery, so he was capitalizing on it.

Taking one of the blankets from his bag he threw it across his shoulders and stared at the ashen grey skies. From here he could see Red Mountain, continuously spewing the ash that chocked this island of most color and life, could see the strange creatures the locals referred to Netch roaming around in herds. He watched the occasional Reaver and guard wage battle and ash spawn rise from the ashy ground to interrupt.

He spotted a hawk sitting on a low branch, watching him. For a good long while they sat staring at each other. And then Gunnar frowned, took up a pebble from the ground, whispered a few things over it and chucked it as hard as he could. The hawk must have either thought that he would miss or that it would not hurt, as it remained stock still as the pebble struck its breast. However when the pebble struck it there was a small flash and a pop, quickly followed by a cry of anguish as the hawk took towards the ashy skies.

"You will not take him from me" Gunnar swore silently "And next time? Pick something native, dumb-ass Daedric prince"

* * *

Hircine grumbled, stroking his wounded chest with the hand of the human form he had taken. There was a large, irritated welt where the pebble had struck him.

The ex priest just had to say a blessing over the damned thing, did he not? And he had to have that excellent of aim for someone his age and missing an eye?

The gods had to favor him to grant him such power and physical prowess. But as far as the lord of the hunt knew, the old man had shunned his gods and was tormented for his betrayal, so unless the man was really not human or was really the talented in his old years.

No, the gods were resolute when their massive egos were wounded. Burning down a temple should have had the man eternally punished in some shape or form. Then why… he was in excellent shape for a man his age, had rather impressive aim for limited eyesight, he was also happily in love with a fellow warrior and leader of a group of honorable warriors. That was not the fortune of a man that should have been shunned by the gods.

Nothing made sense about the man.

Realizing that he would need to wait for the wound to heal naturally, he left fretting over it to glare down at the speck that was the old warrior, still sitting by the tree line.

The man would pay, not only for the wound but also trying so damned hard to take away one of his hunters. And even if the man still had the favor of the gods, he could just pick up a few favors with the other princes. Surely one or two of them would not mind striking down a pet of the Nine, hell he could probably wring Sanguine and Sheogorath simply with the promise of a good time or at least a good show.

Giving one last glare at the soon to be dead man, Hircine picked up the bow that had come with this form. He notched an arrow and aimed with all his hunting skills at the speck, hoping to take out one of the old man's joints or something. And he had the perfect shot to take out a knee when something buffeted his back, the shock knocking the bow from his hands and sending it skittering down the mountain side that he had perched himself on.

"Damnation!" Hircine cursed before turning to curse whatever had ruined his shot, only to be met with a familiar duo.

"Well… speak of the princes" Hircine sighed.

"Well you did think of us, you really shouldn't be surprised" Sanguine smirked, in full Dremora lord form, before tipping back a drink from a flash he was carrying.

"And you promised a good show! I haven't seen one of those since that whole escapade with the massacre of the Dark Brotherhood" The lord of madness grinned, in his purple and orange coat, his milky white eyes still managing to brim with madness.

"Which one?" Sanguine laughed.

"Enough you two!" Hircine snapped "I assumed since you bothered showing up that you wish to lend your help?"

"Help? I just wanted the show" Sanguine said, taking another drink.

"And what could the lord of hunts possibly want with us?"

"I want to stop that troublesome mortal down there from taking one of my hunters, I also wish to show him what happens when you mess with the lord of the hunt… however he seems favored by the gods and I cannot take them on by myself if they get involved" Hircine explained, pointing down at Gunnar "Will you help me?"

"Torture the man you mean? Nah doesn't sound like a good show to me" Sanguine sighed, taking yet another drink.

"Meh, I've tortured the man enough"

"…Tortured him enough?"

"He went crazy for a little while and I had my fun" The mad prince yawned before spontaneously producing a sun dial from his pocket "Now if you don't mind, I have things to attend too"

"Wait! At least tell me how to torture the bastard!"

"And ruin all the fun of **_the hunt_** for the lord of **_the hunt_** to find the answer? I think not" And with that, the mad prince was gone, leaving Hircine with a quickly growing drunk prince of debauchery.

"…What do I need to do in order to get your help?" Hircine finally sighed.

"Hmm" Sanguine slurred, sloshing a bit of his drink "You know"

"…Really?"

"Ah come on, it's my shtick"

Hircine rolled his eyes "Very well, you may add a touch of debauchery to my plan, but I demand your help if the Nine get involved"

"Got yerself a deal" Sanguine grinned before leaning over the mountain side to peek at the speck.

"Eh… how thoroughly disgusted would you be if they started going at it now? Like right now?"

Hircine pushed Sanguine off the mountain.

* * *

Running free, no chains, no commitments, no worries

That was what it was like to run as a werewolf, to be completely and utterly free with all the power in the world.

The knight, now a creature of the Daedric lord of the hunt, ran through the forest in search of prey to fill his growling belly.

The transformation had taken a toll on his body and it demanded the nourishment of the blood and flesh of a fresh kill. But it also demanded the blood pounding rush of the hunt for this kill. It cried out for it, demanded it like a drug.

He charged forward over a tree, following the scent of something warm blooded and judging by the pheromones quite scared. It held a unique scent… something familiar but not often experienced. Perhaps it was the ash in the air, dulling his senses until the world seemed fuzzy and unfocused, perhaps it was the familiar scent of his mate that still lingered in the air that made him want to charge back, but it was rather hard to focus on the scent of his prey alone.

Regardless, after what seemed like hours of aimless wondering, of losing focus and losing his way, he finally managed to find the creature.

The grey beast snorted and grunted, trying to discretely flop backwards and away from the beast, trashing his head and consequently his massive tusk in an almost frightening manner. But he was a strong and fast, on the creature before it could bellow its last. A swipe of his talons sliced open the creature's face and sent the smell of fresh blood skittering along the winds. It sent him into a blood rage.

He sliced open the creature's back, sides and finally his throat, painting the ashy and snow covered ground with plenty of blood before he finally took a minuscule grain of pity on the creature and smashed its head into a gory mess onto the ground, silencing the creature's cries of pain and leaving a slab of bloody meat behind, which he feasted on before steam had time to rise.

He was perhaps halfway through when he caught the scent of something else and lifting his bloody muzzle to the air, still holding a chunk of bloody flesh between his jaws, deeply inhaled the air to catch the smell.

Ash was the first thing he smelled, if it were at all surprising at this point with how much ash suffocated the air on this cursed island. Then next was the scent of his fresh kill, whose blood caked his face, hands, talons and fangs, and as much as the smell tantalized him back towards the feast, there was another scent that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

It smelled like… it smelled like.

"OFGH!"

A darkly clad figured slammed into the stream off to his side.

It smelled like mead and sex.

"That was unfortunate" The figure grunted, righting himself.

Had he been thinking clearly, Vilkas would have recognized the dark skin and the blood red tattoos of the being, or the black and blood red armor that could have only have belonged to the Daedric realm.

"Anyway, I still get to have a spot of fun in the 'lord of the hunt's' plan" He stood to full height and chanced to see the knight turned animal.

"…Oh…I'm really hoping that you don't remember that" The strange man nervously chuckled.

What was the man going on about?

"Uh…" The man held out his arm and in his hand appeared a rose topped staff. He waved it around once and then vanished into a strange cloud of blacks and purples.

With the strange man gone along with the strange scent as well, he turned back to his meal.

* * *

Hey pups, got a few things to say. First, I'm coming up on a bit of extra time, so I shall try and push out more chapters for you, if my recently failing health permits.

Second, with this new found time I'd thought about working on another story that wasn't about these two (as much as I love them), I'll post a few ideas on my profile so if you want to nudge me towards something then jog over there and PM me with a vote.

Night pups, Nevar rest and meds


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up after a transformation had never been pleasant for the knight.

He always found the first thing to come to his groggy and sleep dulled mind to be the foul taste in his mouth from whatever his wolf had consumed. And blood left to sit over night and bits of flesh left to stew in that blood never tasted good to his human side, especially first thing after he had woken.

Not to mention the filth that usually caked his body. Mud, dirt, sweat, blood and whatever was left his wolf's night of fun was never a pleasant smell to encounter first thing either, nor to look at when he finally managed to get himself moving.

And when he finally got himself moving he would feel the head to toe soreness that the transformation left behind, like all his muscles had been torn to shreds and then sloppily stitched back together and moving pulled on those stitches. Not to mention stomach pains from is human organs trying to digest what was left from his wolf's late night meal.

So when he opened his eyes he knew full well what pain to expect as it assailed his waking mind and body.

"Fuck" He groaned, managing to pry one eye open.

He was thankful for the ashy skies above because it saved him from the pain of see bright morning light, though little indication as to what time it was. And with his internal clock all out of sorts he had no clue as to the time either. If he had to guess though… it was likely sometime in the earlier morning… hopefully

Groaning deeply, Vilkas forced himself into a sitting position, feeling every muscle scream and burn in raging protest. His eyes swam for a moment but then they focused a moment later, just in time as he looked down to see the condition of his body.

Mod and blood were slathered in equal part across his chest, arms, legs and stomach. Blood marked a dark red path from his lips to mid abdomen. Strips of thin bits of dried and bloody flesh clung to his arms but easily flaked away as he rubbed them off. And by the Nine, he reeked to Sovngarde!

Where was Gunnar when he needed the old bastard?

He managed to get to his feet and stumble forward a few feet, pain almost enough to make him falter, before he set an even pace towards what he thought was the sound of water. He just needed to get the blood washed off. And if he was along a source of water then it would have been easier for Gunnar to come find him. At least in theory it seemed right in the knight's still groggy mind.

In hindsight it really was not a great idea because he was walking naked through the woods covered in mud and blood and unarmed and as the knight found out a moment later, straight into a group of three bandits as they huddled bored around an early morning fire.

"Look what we have here" One grinned.

"Shit" Vilkas groaned, backing up.

Of all the fucking miserable things to happen, he just had to walk into a bandit group as he was walking buck ass naked and unarmed.

"What's a Nord doing out here" One of the bandits asked, eyes running up and down Vilkas' filthy and naked body "And looking like you are?"

"Shit" Vilkas grumbled, almost in the cover of the trees again.

"Where ya going? We just want to get to know you better"

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"

Four pairs of eyes turned towards the foliage behind the bandit group, turning to see some bushes rustling ominously.

"What in the name of Oblivion was that?" One bandit asked.

"Gunnar" Vilkas sighed.

"What's a Gunnar?"

Said old warrior burst like an explosion from the bushes, face etched in absolute rage as he rushed forward swinging his greatsword. His appearance was such as surprise that two of the three idiots fell victim Gunnar's blade before they even had time to react. They fell into halves onto the ground, feeding the dirt ashy ground with their blood and intestines.

"SHIT!" The last cursed before Gunnar pulled his sword back as far as his arms would allow and swung forward with all his might.

The man ended up cut right shoulder to left hip, and then in two parts on the ground, spilling his blood alongside his former cohorts in crime.

Vilkas took a second to look over his husband's work before scowling at said older Nord.

"That was a bit… excessive" He noted.

"What?" Gunnar said, sheathing his great blade "And leave anyone alive that's seen ya naked?"

"Gunnar" Vilkas sighed.

Gunnar just grinned before reaching into his bag and yanking out a blanket and lovingly wrapping it around his husband before landing a kiss on a bit of clean cheek.

"…You killed that hunter didn't you? The one I told you about?" Vilkas sighed.

"What? Me? How could you think such a thing?" Gunnar chuckled.

"Gunnar" Vilkas warned.

"Ah… yes… he's a little bit dead"

"Gunnar"

"Oh alright, a lot dead"

"Gunnar"

"So I may have tortured him first…shoved a sword up his ass…"

"Gunnar!"

"Oh fine! He had quite possibly one of the longest stretched out and horrific deaths in centuries" Gunnar finally admitted "But the bastard had it coming"

Vilkas sighed before resting his head on his husband's chest.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me and never let me go?"

The knight rolled his eyes.

"Always"

* * *

A few hours later after they had gotten Vilkas bathed, dressed and fed some proper human food, they were on the boat back to Skyrim waiting for it to set sail.

"Alright, so the boat takes two days and then there's about a five day trek to get to Whiterun" Vilkas said "Please tell me that you have a plan to broach the subject of curing the beast blood to Alea or that you think you can think of a plan before we reach home"

"Of course" Gunnar grinned, pulling Vilkas closer on the little bench they were seated on so he could bring the knight under a shared blanket.

"Of course?"

"Well… I can come up with a plan at least"

"Gunnar" Vilkas groaned.

"Give me some credit" Gunnar grinned.

"You haven't thought of anything? Anything at all?"

"Well I have but I'm sure you won't like it one bit"

"Tell me Gunnar, we're low on time"

"Face Alea when she's a werewolf" Gunnar grinned.

"…" Vilkas glared "You're right, I don't like it one bit"

"Told ya" Gunnar smiled before landing a kiss on Vilkas' creased forehead.

The knight huffed loudly before burrowing into the blanket, leaving Gunnar to his thinking as the ship finally set sail.

The gentle rocking and swaying of the boat as it cleanly sliced through the waters and the warmth they generated underneath the blanket made it hard for Vilkas to remain awake and annoyed at Gunnar. And after only an hour or so of open sea, he found himself leaning heavily against Gunnar, eyes drooping.

He felt a pair of mischievous lips press a kiss in his hair and he found only the strength to grumble.

"Don't worry you're handsome little head over nothing sonny, I'll figure something out" Gunnar murmured against his hair "Nothing bad is going to happen to anyone"

A warm handed made its way to Vilkas' face and gently stroked his cheek lovingly.

"Right" Vilkas grumbled, but allowing himself to fall into the sweet, oblivious darkness. Feeling safe with Gunnar right there besides him.

Humming to himself, Gunnar thought about the little problem of broaching the subject to the fiery red head back at home.

She had grudgingly agreed with Kodlak because everyone thought the old man was dying, and even then she went on rants up and down for weeks afterwards, saying how it was a terrible thing to do since the beast blood would have helped preserved the old harbinger's strength. Several times she had turned Gunnar with violent intent because she blamed Kodlak's decaying state on him. Sure all those times he had managed to talk her down, but her temper was constant.

The old Nord could have only imagined what Alea would do to him if he told her his plans of curing Vilkas. It would likely involve her bow and his ass and some sort of lube-less penetration of the sorts.

Shuddering, Gunnar scotched a bit closer to Vilkas.

His poor knight was already out cold, leaning against Gunnar's shoulder and softly snoring away. He had not put on any war paint after he had washed away the remnants that morning and without it… well he certainly looked younger and it just made Gunnar fell like an old pervert for being married to him.

Seriously, Vilkas was younger enough to be his son… but Vilkas had also made it quite clear that he found the age difference them quite hot. And if they loved each, what the hell?

He placed another kiss on the top of Vilkas' head, smiling when Vilkas gave a small smile in his sleep, muttering Gunnar's name.

If he had Vilkas, Gunnar felt like he had the ambition to do anything, including facing down a certain red head back home that was going to be really pissed when Gunnar told her flat out

He was curing Vilkas of his beast blood.

"Vilkas, I don't want a bow shoved up my ass" Gunnar sighed against Vilkas' hair "So you better be standing there with me when I tell her"

Vilkas just continued sleeping, and Gunnar nuzzled his face in the knight's hair, inclining to join him.

* * *

Hey pups~

Last chapter I said I wanted to start another story about… something. And I got an great idea late one night as I was grinding this out, Imma post it on my profile and you guys tell me what you think

Also I GOTS ME A BETA! *happydance*

So that means my terrible grammar is slowly but surely being fixed, thanks voltagelisa :3


	6. Chapter 6

After several hours after his surprise nap, Vilkas decided that he did not like sailors.

Not. One. Damn. Bit.

First, there was the fact that they howled loudly whenever they spied him and Gunnar together, or whistled, which honestly was not much better. Vilkas could not even look at his husband without getting a cat call from one of the salt encrusted bastards. And when they touched the sailors burst out in a chorus of wild laughter and lewd calls that had Vilkas fuming and flushing.

Second was that they always were making some sort of noise, wither it was their harassing calls or their sea shanties, or loudly yelling or talking as they worked. They seemed to fill up whatever second that the loud crashes of the sea against the sides of the boat were not present. And after an hour of listening to the sheer noise, Vilkas' headache worsened into something foul and malicious.

And perhaps the worst of it all?

The old sea dog of a captain was far too chummy with Gunnar for Vilkas.

They talked and chatted whenever the captain was not barking orders or joining his crew in making their monstrous din. The captain told Gunnar tales of his sea life and Gunnar told him a few war stories (sure, Vilkas had heard these quite a few times already but still). Whenever Vilkas approached Gunnar while the two were talking the captain would change the subject, opting to instead act like Vilkas was a child interrupting his parent's conversation.

However, instead of ripping the captain a new one or getting in his face, Vilkas knew if he said anything then he would be accused of acting like a jealous child. And while he knew he would secretly enjoy it, he really did not need to be lecture like a jealous child by Gunnar in front of the crew. Or worse, be teased about it by Gunnar and the sailors. So he was left to stew on that one as well.

Put it all together and at the end of those several hours, Vilkas was growled, glaring and grinding his teeth, his beast blood broiling despite his recent transformation and a strange heat forming inside of him.

Sure, he was acting something more akin to a wild dog then a warrior. But he was pissed off, being shuffled off to the side from his beloved, and had something above and beyong bashing against the sides of his skull. Not to mention his stomach was still sour from whatever his wolf had decided to eat (probably horker judging by the foulness of his breath)

Damn it, his head did not feel right.

Seated on the edge of the boat, looking down at the gently churning waters not far from the bottoms of his boots, the knight tried to reign in his growling wolf in an attempt not to slaughter everyone on the boat. Though the temptation to hear their screams, to see their life essence paint the sea worn wood a lively red, to taste their flesh on his tongue…

Vigorously shaking his head, Vilkas buried his face in his hands and tried to focus on that raging, unquenchable fire within the empty place where his soul was supposed to be. It seemed more agitated than normal, almost as if someone-

"Hey sonny!"

With little warning, Gunnar plopped down right behind Vilkas, large legs on either side of the knight's. Large arm came around to surround Vilkas' midsection and a head seemingly appeared on his shoulder, a smug look from what Vilkas could see out of the corner of his eyes.

"What are ya doing over here? Broody again? Don't you do enough of that at home?" Gunnar teased.

"I'm fine" Vilkas mumbled.

The fire that was his raging wolf spirit almost shrank to nothing, like it was bowing to Gunnar. And it never ceased to surprise the knight how his wolf bowed to a human of all things, sure it was Gunnar, but still. What was worse was that the thought that Gunnar's presence was that overpowering that his wolf yielded was a bit… arousing in a strange way.

Shifting a bit, and trying to hide the slight bump in his armored skirt, Vilkas tried to keep some small part of his dignity before his old bastard took it.

"Seriously Vilkas, what's wrong?" Gunnar asked sweetly.

He was serious. Gunnar never said Vilkas' real name unless it was serious, he always did use those pet names. Was he… that worried that Vilkas was worried?

"It… feels like I'm losing control" Vilkas admitted.

It had been a small thought pestering the back of his mind since he had woken up from his latest transformation. A small thought that had grown with his wildly swinging emotions and his reckless thinking. What had he been thinking? Wanting to tear through these sailors? It was beneath-

Vilkas blinked. Had he really… almost thought that?

A pair of loving lips pressed against his temple, distracting him.

"Don't worry sonny, nothing bad will happen to you if I have anything to say about it"

Feeling a rush of warmth, Vilkas snuggled backwards into Gunnar.

"You're up against gods and you would still protect me?" Vilkas murmured.

"Hey, I burned down one of the Nine's temples before, so their moody cousins don't bother me" Gunnar laughed.

Vilkas sighed before turning his head so he could kiss his husband lovingly on the mouth. Yes, his crazy, old, and completely-out-of-his-mind-if-he-thinks-he-can-tak e-on-Daedric-princes husband, but his none the less.

Gunnar returned it in kind, lovingly kissing back until they both remembered that they needed to breath and pulled back slightly breathless.

"You're insane" Vilkas smirked.

"And you have to deal with it" Gunnar grinned before scooping up Vilkas' hand, bringing it up to his mouth so that the older Nord could kiss the gold ring cemented there "Especially since I've got this on you"

Vilkas did not want to hide his smile.

This crazy old bastard was his and his alone. No one would change that. And maybe, just maybe they could do this. Maybe they could do this? Maybe they could free the Circle from Hircine's curse, maybe they could go against the wild whims of the gods?

Gunnar released his hand, wrapping his arms once again around the knight.

Together they sat for awhile, simply embraced and watching the waters pass by them, listening to the din that the crew caused as they went about their duties. That old captain did not bother them, something that Vilkas was grateful for, choosing to bark orders and make noise like the rest of his lot.

Eventually the sun did set, so Gunnar and Vilkas got to their feet and headed below deck and too the cargo hold to their little borrowed spot for the night.

* * *

**~Later that night~**

* * *

It was late at night when Gunnar was awoken with a kiss.

He groaned a bit, familiar and sweet lips moving oh so lovingly against his own, before busting out into a bit of a smirk.

There was no need for words. If his cute little knight suddenly found a need for some late night sex then Gunnar was more than willing to oblige. Especially since his knight was in so much need of deeply distracting distractions. And especially since his little knight was such a hot, needy thing when he needed such distractions.

They kissed for awhile, before Gunnar snaked a hand up to sink his fingers into Vilkas' long hair and gently tug him back. He licked his own lips before licking Vilkas', thoroughly enjoying the sounds of his knight groaning throatily before plunging his tongue into the eager hole.

A muffled groan was his response before a pair of eager hands started fumbling with their sleeping attire. After several attempts to undo the cloth belts to their trousers, the knight's fingers finally managed to undo the stubborn knots and quickly chuck the troublesome clothes away to the side, leaving the two in quickly tenting breechcloths.

A possessive, sleep warmed hand cupped Gunnar's growing need, only furthering in its growth.

"Mine" A deep, husky growl rumbled against the old Nord's ear.

Gunnar groaned throatily, not hiding the smile that his little knight would be able to see even in the total darkness of their borrowed little spot behind the cargo. While he did like to be in charge, filling himself out in that all too natural father like role that drove so many people wild, he also rather liked it when Vilkas took charge once in a while. To watch as Vilkas allowed a momentary peace within himself.

A sharp nip at the base of his throat drew the old Nord back to his needy knight. And just as well, because Vilkas was rutting against Gunnar like an animal in heat, grunting and growling with need as he lay claiming little hickies along the older Nord's jaw line, throat, neck, and shoulders. With each rocking of the knight's hips their clothed arousals rubbed along each other, causing the painful tenting to grow worse with each pass. And each groan of growing arousal from Gunnar was punctuated with another mark.

Soon his need was weeping inside its cloth prison and the skin from his jaw down felt alive with stinging pain, warm spots and saliva. And the want to bury himself into the hot insides of his knight was near overwhelming.

"Sonny" Gunnar purred.

"Old bastard" Vilkas growled.

And before the old bastard could come up with a retort, Vilkas shoved two fingers into his mouth, catching that clever tongue of the older Nord.

Rather than be indignant about the rough treatment, Gunnar just smirked around the fingers before starting to suck on them as best he could with his captured tongue. And when Vilkas was satisfied that the wicked muscle would not wag, he let it go only to have it wrap around his fingers and slather them in warm saliva in a rather erotic manner.

The knight groaned as his beloved willing submitted to the rough treatment. Sure he would feel bad about it in the morning, but right now it was kinda fucking hot. And Gunnar was going along with it, so why not? Besides, the old bastard was tough enough to handle everything thrown at him in real life, why could he not handle a little roughness during intimate times?

Once he was satisfied with how his fingers were coated, Vilkas quickly unknotted the ties to both of their breechcloths, leaving their hot and needy bodies exposed to the cold air. But that was soon fixed with Vilkas pressing himself flat against his lover, groaning as skin pressed against Gunnar's hot skin. His groan only deepened as Gunnar's rough and warm hands came up to grip his arse, thick fingers messaging the willing muscles.

But Vilkas had set out to do something, and he was going to do it… even if Gunnar was making it very hard to think. So he leaned forward until he could claim Gunnar's mouth in a clash of tongues and teeth, distracting the older Nord long enough that he could reach his arm back and prod his spit slick fingers along the crevice of his molested ass.

When Vilkas let out a rather… pleasured mewl, the older Nord could only cock an eyebrow. Could his little horny knight be enjoying his message that much? Or was he-

Gunnar swallowed another mewl, this time curious enough to let one of his hands stray a bit until his wondering fingers found Vilkas' hand, busy thrusting a finger in and out of himself with what seemed like practiced ease.

The very thought that the knight was preparing himself was enough to make Gunnar's burning erection to jerk harshly and a throaty groan to escape the kiss, which was retorted with a harsh bite to his lower lip and a slightly apologetic lick over the small mark.

"Sonny" Gunnar groaned.

There was another harsh bite, this one to the corner of the older Nord's mouth, before Vilkas leaned back, letting his beloved to attack his chest and groin as he continued to finger himself. Rough hands teased his already peaked nipples, rubbing and pinching them until they ached and burned with need. Vilkas' pecs, sides, abs and hips were all thoroughly touched and groped, each area getting the attention that only someone as intimately familiar with his body as Gunnar could give, and the old bastard left his body feeling like a boneless, horny mess.

"Gunnar" Vilkas growled/demanded.

There was a chuckle from the older Nord before he gave his rough hand a few licks and wrapped it around his need knight's dripping erection and gave it a slow but delicious stroke.

"Fuck!" Vilkas hissed.

He got several slow strokes that encouraged him to slip in a second finger along the first and quickly pick up the pace. The knight knew that he needed to pick up the pace if he wanted his husband inside him, churning his insides, causing delicious friction in his most intimate areas and connecting the two together like nothing else. If he spent himself it would be rather unfair to the older Nord, who had dealt with the rough treatment in stride.

Knocking the older Nord's hand away from his erection, Vilkas pulled his own fingers out of himself and roughly pushed Gunnar onto his back. Gunnar tried to sit up, but Vilkas gave him another rough shove before planting a firm hand on his chest and keeping it there, making sure that the older Nord got the hint that he was in charge this time around. Once he was satisfied that his husband would not move, Vilkas repositioned his hips above Gunnar's proudly standing erection and then gently lowered himself down on it.

He felt the hot, wet head press against his mostly ready entrance and immediately felt his muscles contract in waiting pleasure. Relaxing them, he lowered himself again, this time feeling it lodge at the lip of his ready hole. And with a deep breath, Vilkas found one of Gunnar's hands with his free one, letting their fingers intertwine, before pushing down further.

The natural resistance of his body made it hard as well as the slightly slopping prep work, but with a bit of a rough slam downwards, Vilkas felt the head of his lover's arousal push into him. He had to take a moment to moan loudly, loving the heat of that bit of flesh inside him and feeling his muscles twitch and try and draw it in further. And then with another rough slam downwards, Vilkas forced a few inches inside himself.

Gunnar was throatily groaning below him, hips moving restlessly in an attempt in helping the penetration. But Vilkas' arm was firm in keeping him in place, and he was left to groan and wiggle beneath his knight.

"S-sonny" Gunnar practically begged.

Vilkas smiled, enjoying the power he felt he had over Gunnar. Perhaps this was how children felt over age, as they grew stronger as their parents weakened?

Vilkas slowly began working his hips downward, trying to get those last few inches inside himself. Gunnar's restless hips greatly aided him, as well as a rough hand on his hip, and soon the knight was seated quite comfortably on Gunnar's lap, feeling that burning organ inside his needy body, feeling the slight burn around the entrance and the delicious friction of his insides as they contracted and move around the hot intruder.

"F-fuck" Vilkas managed.

Gunnar spat something beneath him, hips move even more restlessly then before and the knight decided to reward his lover for indulging him.

He lifted his hips upwards, pulling that hot organ from his body until the hot tip remained, and then slammed back down, fully impaling himself in one go. Vilkas groaned, having nailed his sweet spot and Gunnar groaned from the hot insides milking him for all his worth. And then the knight lifted his hips again and slammed back down again, gaining similar results and doing it again. However, the third time he slammed down was also the third time he nailed his sweet spot, and after so much stimulation, he suddenly cummed with a shout.

His release was so sudden that he literally went cross eyed with pleasure, crying out his release as he spent hot, white seed all over Gunnar's chest and his arm. The knight's insides spasmed around Gunnar, making the older Nord groan, but nothing stimulating enough to trigger his own release. So as Vilkas sagged on him, becoming a boneless mess, Gunnar was still hard and aching inside his knight.

Surging upward, pushing Vilkas' arm aside, and wrapped his thick arms around the knight before snapping his hips upwards.

Vilkas cried out from the overstimulation, feeling his orgasm weakened muscles tingle way too much to be good and soon he was moaning loudly into Gunnar's shoulder as the older Nord drove into him with surprising speed and strength.

"G-gunnar! S-stop! Too much!" Vilkas moaned.

A rough hand slipped between them and started roughly stroking the knight's half hard arousal, the sudden bolt of pleasure causing the knight's eyes to cross again and practically scream in ecstasy. It was too much, but it was so good too and just made everything better. So he let the stream of moans escape his lips as he started slamming downward to meet Gunnar's thrusts, their rhythm off for a moment before perfecting synchronizing to create another burst of pleasure for the knight.

Meanwhile Gunnar was nearing release, feeling the tight insides squeezing around him and hearing his needy knight coming undone, feeling the heat coming from their skin, the smell of Vilkas and just

With another mighty slam upwards and a rough stroke, they were cumming, Gunnar groaning out his release all over their pressed tight chests and Vilkas crying out loudly as his insides were sprayed with the hot seed of his lover. And it seemed to go on and on and on until finally Gunnar collapsed backwards, arms still tightly wrapped around his knight and still buried deep in the insides that he had just marked.

They laid there for a moment, breathing hard, feeling their skin sweat and smelling the results of their love making and feeling the bliss of their orgasm weakened muscles.

It was Gunnar that moved first after what seemed like hours, just as their breaths had evened out and the chill of the air settled on them. His rough lips moved along the sides of Vilkas' face, moving gently across the corner of his jaw, then the outer edge of his ear and finally stopping at his temple.

"Sorry sonny, I went a little nuts there" Gunnar murmured huskily.

Vilkas felt no anger that Gunnar had taken charge, after all it was what he did best. And he was in far too much bliss to care at the moment.

"Was good" Vilkas managed, concluding from the roughness of his voice that he would not have it in the morning.

"Always good to hear that" Gunnar chuckled warmly against the knight's temple before landing a kiss there.

Vilkas snuggled against his husband's neck, enjoying the warmth and the scent of his Gunnar. He was perfectly content at the moment, and even his sated wolf had nothing to add as it curled up contentedly in the corner of his mind.

Gently as he could, Gunnar pulled himself from Vilkas and then quickly tossed a blanket over their bodies before landing a tender kiss atop Vilkas' head and letting the two drift.

* * *

In the morning the two were leaning against the railing, taking in the morning air and getting ready for yet another day of seat travel.

"Ah, salty sea air can do wonders for you" Gunnar sighed.

Vilkas just rolled his eyes.

"You sound old" He chuckled.

Gunnar just grinned sideways at Vilkas before landing a kiss on his cheek.

((Hey pups~ I return from the dead with another chapter *why does smut have to be so gods damned long?* Anyway, if any of you are interested in seeing some new shit from me then jog over to my profile where I've posted a few ideas I'd like to expand on or heck! Send me a PM with an idea you might like me to try. I will be uploading another SKM fill as well, so check that out too ^^ Anyway, night pups!))


	7. Chapter 7

Here he was in the forest that he had been in before, and torn apart. But now…

Growling, snarling, howling.

It was all that he could hear because… it was all he was meant to hear. It was the only language he needed to speak, the only one he needed to hear, the only one.

He turned to the sources of the other noises and saw his brother and Alea, both in their beast forms like they were always meant to be. And behind them lay so many others, all in their beast forms, a practical ocean of muscle and fur. And the hunger they felt for the flesh of their weak prey rolled off them like dark waves, but it was only expected because they should have hungered for the flesh of their prey.

And he would lead him to them to it, because it was only natural that he led them.

Their prey for the night was man. The foul two legged creatures had been plucking off their kind long enough with trickery, enchanted weapons, traps and all sorts of other weak skilled ways. Tonight however, every brother and sister was amassed underneath his leadership and they would wash over the two legged weaklings like a wave, drowning them in sheer numbers of their awesome might.

He lifted his muzzle and let lose the call to hun, a sound that echoed off the surrounding trees and filled the once quiet enough night with its sound. Others raised theirs, answering the call with a responding yes, they would join him.

Tensing, he readied for the first leap into action, readied for the first step into the stampede of his brothers and sisters into the hunt. It would be glorious, leading so many of his kind against such a worthy cause.

_It's not worthy!_

Doubt? How could he doubt how things that were always meant to be? These creatures were his brothers and sisters in the hunt, and their prey needed to learn their place. Why would his mind doubt such obvious things?

_I am not an animal!_

_YES. WE. ARE!_

Pushing the doubt aside he leapt, his massive frame propelling him forward fast enough that he landed nearly fifteen feet away before he took off running on all fours. He heard the thunder of running and leaping bodies behind him and knew his brothers and sisters were right behind him and ready to lay waste to this arrogant enemy.

_DON'T!_

He ran faster and faster, feeling his heart soar from such utter freedom.

_STOP!_

He leapt in and out of the trees with practiced ease, lungs filled with the rich scent of the untamed wilds of his home in astounding time.

_This is not your home!_

He burst through the last bit of foliage and landed in front of the group of humans meant to deal with him. Two elders and a few others, dressed in impressive sets of armor and with silver weapons of all things…

…And for some reason he was drawn to the second elder.

He was not quite as old as his companion, still looking to have a bit of life in him. His hair was a bit short and choppy, graying at the temples and a large scar marring half of his face, from hairline to jaw line that laid claim to one of his eyes. He wore leather armor with a few metal plates for protection and mobility and carried a rather large, silver greatsword.

That voice that had bothered him earlier radiated a longing towards the man, but the sheer disgust in the man's lone eye simply drove him mad! How dare the two legged weakling look down upon the great hunter?!

His brothers and sisters came bursting through the trees, landing on the others with wild glee, sinking teeth and claws into flesh. The humans were easily torn apart despite their armor and weapons, their blood sprayed everywhere and flavoring the air with its coppery taste. And the taste simply drove him closer and closer to the edge.

The man drew his sword and he lost it. The man had picked a fight and he was all too willing to provide it.

He lunged and the elder threw an arm up to protect his face

* * *

Blood was on his tongue, it was what woke Vilkas up first, violently bringing him back from the nightmare that Hircine had likely trapped him in.

Second, the blood had a very distinct and very familiar scent to it. A scent he knew far too well to mistake for anything else.

His eyes snapped open and he was greeted with Gunnar's close face, hiding as best it could the pain from having Vilkas' teeth in his arm.

The knight immediately retracted his teeth, feeling the sick slick of his partially transformed teeth pull from Gunnar's muscles. The horror of what he had done whisking away the remnants of sleep and the strange feelings that had so easily overcome him.

"G-gunnar… gods… I" Vilkas sobbed.

"Ouch" Gunnar grunted, placing a glowing hand over the wound.

"What… why?"

"Nothing pup" Gunnar grinned weakly "You were just having another nightmare and I had the foolish notion to see if waking ya would help"

The knight watched as Gunnar removed his hand to inspect the damage. And even in the dark of the ship's belly, he could make out clear as day the dark red bite marks on Gunnar's muscular arm and the blood that still trickled from them. The flesh was an agitated red/pink color around the entry wounds and quickly growing darker with the sheer force that Vilkas had put behind the bite, not to mention the bruising around it that was quickly growing darker.

And looking at it made Vilkas sick to his stomach, after all it was a bite meant to harm and it… it was on Gunnar of all people, the man he would kill for to protect and keep. He had hurt the person that had mattered most to him. He wanted to be sick, he wanted to be sick. Gods, the taste of his blood was still on his tongue.

He moved to get away, get away from seeing what he had done because he could not control his fucking beast blood.

A rough and warm hand wrapping around his arm stopped him, and though he pulled and yanked with all his might he could not escape it. Or maybe he was not really trying, knowing that despite having hurt him, that Gunnar would comfort him, make it seem like it was not his fault.

"Come here sonny" Gunnar said softly, pulling the unresisting knight into the tight circle of his arms.

"I hurt you" Vilkas sobbed against his husband's chest.

"Only a love bite sonny" Gunnar murmured against Vilkas' hair "You'll have to try a lot harder to try and hurt me"

"You foolish old bastard" Vilkas sobbed bitterly.

"Can't help it, I'm hopeless in love with ya" Gunnar chuckled warmly.

"Damn you, damn you" Vilkas sobbed "Be angry with me, stop treating me like a child"

"And lose all my appeal to you? Oblivion no" Gunnar smiled.

"Why do I love a stubborn old fool like you?"

"Good question, how about we answer it in the morning after you're not so cranky?"

Vilkas, sniffling, did not say anything but pressed him flat against his husband and was simply content with laying there until Gunnar's breath evened out with sleep.

He lay motionless for awhile, until he was sure that Gunnar was fast asleep, and then waited for his own miserable sniffling to quell before he wriggled out of Gunnar's oh so comforting arms. He was loathed to leave them… but…

He hunted through their pack off to the side, finding the bandages quickly enough and then wrapping Gunnar's still bleeding arm, making sure to smear some of the healing salve on like Gunnar showed him. After that he hunted around and found a wine flagon and drank from it until the taste of Gunnar's blood was washed from his tongue.

And then?

He wriggled back into Gunnar's arms with nowhere else to go. It was a very comfortable place, so close to Gunnar's heart. It was so familiar and welcoming because he knew it so well and because Gunnar had let him in.

But being so close to Gunnar's heart also meant he was just that closer to it when his beast blood took over

And ripped it out.

He vowed to cleanse his blood of this curse that wanted so badly to lay claim to one of the best things in his life. Because only something so foul as this curse would make Vilkas hurt that which he loved above most all.

* * *

Hircine growled deeply from his perch atop the ship's mast.

He'd need to try a different tactic.

* * *

HEY PUPS! I have great news! Shortened hours are taking in effect in my workplace, so I now can only work about ten hours a day at max with a really short shift being about three hours. You know what that means? PARTY! Wait, what? No, I should have a bit more time to work on chapters, and depending on my fickle muses I might be able to churn out chapters faster, so cross yer fingers!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey pups, first I want to say how terribly sorry I am for writing this out! I've had so many days off and I've hardly worked on this at all! So I hope that the little bit of length that this chapter has makes up for it at least a little bit.

Second, all the new Companions are just my other Dragonborns that I've made into regular characters because I liked that I included them in my other story and because I love them all~

Anyway, enjoy pups!

* * *

Gunnar stretched as he stepped off the boat, raising his thick arms up to the snow laden sky and a smile warming his handsome face. The cold snowy air felt amazing against his skin after being on a boat for… gods… two days? Anyway, he felt like he was on that boat for far too long and while there had been some very cozy nights well… the love struck salty old sea dog of a captain and the childish crew were getting on his last gods damned nerves.

"Sweet Nine, it's good to get off that boat!" He groaned happily as he joyously popped all his joints.

He was back on land, heading home for a bit of rest before a huge and thrilling quest for the people he loved most in the world and feeling perfectly fine for his age. Now all he needed to be happy was a certain broody knight of his… speaking of which-

Said broody knight strode off the boat, his pace tight but stubborn, like he was going somewhere and in a bit of a hurry. His face was also stubbornly set, like he was determined to do something, and while the quest they were about to go out and do was something of a exceptionally serious manner, Gunnar just could not stand the sight of his little knight so serious at the moment.

So spinning around, he grabbed Vilkas' face in his hands, and only giving his confused knight a grin, he pinched Vilkas' cheeks in between his fingers

"Why the long face sonny?" Gunnar grinned.

"Stop it!" Vilkas snapped "You know very well what my problem is!"

"Come on sonny! Half the battle is keeping yer chin up!" Gunnar smiled, stopping from pinching Vilkas' cheeks to simply cup his knight's face "Then when you, say… take on Daedric Princes, then it doesn't seem so impossible"

He deserved the punch aimed at his gut, just like Vilkas deserved the kiss Gunnar planted on the knight's creased forehead. He did so love when his little knight was all fiery and grumpy, it was just too cute.

"Gunnar" Vilkas grumbled.

"Vilkas, you've gotta put some trust in me" Gunnar smiled, thumbs idly rubbing his thumbs across Vilkas' stubble covered cheeks "I'm going to do this, and I know I can do it if you trust me that I can do it"

Huffing, Vilkas grumbled underneath his breath about stupid old men, but let said stupid old man take his hand and start leading him first through the bitter city of stones and then out towards the wilderness and then home.

It was not until they were quite a few miles from Windhelm that he spoke up again

"It's going to take quite a bit more then my trust that you can do it" He said "And… I can trust that you could do it… you could do anything you set your mind too… but how are you going to take on Daedric Princes?"

Gunnar smirked at the knight

"Don't you worry your pretty little head over nothing, I'll get it all figured out"

And for once, Vilkas decided that he would just trust Gunnar.

* * *

Rayvahn looked over the several job requests that people had sent in over the past week, determining who would be best for what.

Three of the jobs just needed sheer muscle, so that would be Farkas, Njada and Od-Kaaz. Four needed skill, that would be Alea, Athis, Ria and either Vilkas or Gunnar depending if they got back today. And then two jobs that needed charm… that would be herself and Tovar but she was busy being in charge and Tovar was only charming if he got enough mead in himself and-

The sound of the door banging startled Rayvahn so hard that the scraps of paper went flying and there was a moment of comical grabbing as she struggled to snatch all of them out of midair. When she finally managed to snatch them up all, she glared at the front door and the two older Nords standing there.

"Harbinger! You jerk!" She whined, waving her paper stuffed fists to emphasize her point.

Gunnar just grinned at the younger Nord

"Come on, you love me anyway girly"

"Right" She pouted before going back to settling the jobs

"Anyway girly" Gunnar smiled as Vilkas trailed off towards their room "How have things been?"

"Alright, nothing to complain about, everyone's been cooperative-"

"What happened?"

"What could you mean?" Rayvahn asked innocently, fanning her long girlish eyelashes

"Nothing ever goes that smoothly around here, what went wrong girly?"

Rayvahn sighed, running her fingers through her long black hair before sighing again.

"Alea and Farkas have been acting weird, violent, brash, curt… several times they nearly transformed in front of public eye" Rayvahn explained.

"And what about you girly?"

Rayvahn shifted uncomfortably, remembering her own broiling beast blood.

"I busy myself with fighting and uh… other activities and I seem to be in control most the time, but I still feel… restless, angry a lot of the time"

"Alright girly, I'll take over now, go and do yer other… activities" Gunnar said with an eyebrow wiggle.

Turning a bright red, Rayvahn retreated outside to where the others were, letting Gunnar pick up the jobs to decide who was right for what. He looked them over for a moment and then went outside, looking once towards the stairs to where his broody knight was, longing to help all those suffering under Hircine's curse.

Especially his Vilkas.

* * *

Outside, all the Companions save Vilkas had gathered to get their jobs for their days. Gunnar took a moment to admire how their numbers had grown since the time he had become Harbinger.

He had added first, a talented young rouge Dunmer named Rose. She was quick on her feet, quick of tongue and got most everything done in record time.

And then a large and powerful Khajiit named Od-Kaaz and consequently his husband Ghorbash, a large and strong Orc. Both were big and powerful and capable of feats that even Gunnar could not dream off.

And then off course Rayvahn and her husband Argis the Bulwark, both capable fighters with a wide range of skills. Both were known wide and far for their heroic feats.

And finally, a talented Altmer mage named Bruniik-Kah and current Arch mage of the College of Winterhold.

The Companions had become so much more then when he had arrived himself and he could not help but feel proud of what he had accomplished. He had expanded it from a group of drunken warriors to a fully functioning guild full of diversity of both skills and ethnicity.

"Morning everyone!" He called out cheerily to the massed Companions.

He was greeted with a bunch of 'welcome backs' and greetings, which made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. These people were his family, and while they were dysfunctional, it still was great to have everyone together.

"Alright, to work you worthless dogs!" He grinned.

He started calling out jobs, letting Companions call them for themselves and handing them out until they were claimed before barking for them to get their arses out the door, which they all snapped too it, but Gunnar stopped Bruniik.

"Hey, want to pick your brain"

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait… wait" Bruniik sighed, rubbing his temples "You want to… take on dark gods of exceptional power?"

"No, no, no, yer not listening. I want to take on ONE dark god of exceptional power IF he interferes" Gunnar told the elf.

They were currently sitting outside Jorvashkr, Bruniik taking generous sips of his bottle of mead. The black haired Altmer was nervously flipping through his book of extensive research notes that Gunnar was sure held the secrets of immortality, eternal youth and perhaps several of history's most delicious recipes for mead. He was hoping that some time in Bruniik's long life he had done something as wacky and crazy as facing a Daedric Prince and he had taken note of it.

"Okay, so you want to face Hircine, right? Cause you want to cure the Circle right?" Bruniik sighed "First off, Alea is going to kick your ass for even thinking about it"

"I've beaten her before, I can do it again"

"I've spoken extensively with Rayvahn, Farkas and Vilkas about it and they are unsure if they want to give up the boons of the werewolf blood"

"…Yeah… I know"

"Third of all you are a Nine cursed man wanting to take on Daedric Princes, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Shush, you want to disturb the neighbors?"

"Harbinger, seriously, you are doing something more idiotic then that time you thought it would be great to get everyone plastered at the Bannered Mare"

"I still have no idea how we all ended up partying in Markarth"

"GUNNAR!"

"Alright! Alright! But back to the point, do you have anything in that all powerful book that will help me out? Surely you've had to deal with the Daedric at some point in your travels, found something to use against them?" Gunnar asked, sounding almost desperate.

Bruniik sighed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like an insult, before the dark haired elf began flipping through his book of notes with some purpose though he still seemed rather skeptical about that purpose. After looking through page after page of Bruniik's fancy, slanted handwriting in both the Nordic language and his elven language and diagrams of unspeakable things, he finally stopped on a page with a picture of a being Gunnar knew well.

"I've only ever had dealings with Herma Mora…" Bruniik sighed, letting his long fingers brush against the picture of the mass of tentacles before running over his own words "But that was because there was a mutual trade to be had"

"You… you traded with a Daedric Prince?" Gunnar asked in horror.

"Truthfully I got the better end of the deal as I asked for weaknesses of the Daedric, though I was asking about Dremora Lords" Bruniik explain "But I could not help but think that perhaps it would also work against the Princes"

"Well, don't keep me in suspense!"

"It's… well… okay forget it"

"Bruniik!"

"It's a priest! I thought that by having something or someone favored by the Nine then you could keep the Daedric at bay or nullify their powers" Bruniik sighed "But I've never had a chance to test the theory or even get my hands on a priest that would be willing to do such a thing"

Gunnar sighed rubbing his own temples this time.

He may have been a priest once, but he had long since lost the favor of the Nine. If anything they had cursed him, and while his life was certainly grand at the moment, he was sure it was only because he was so close to Hircine and his domain. How could he face them now that he had lost the power he once wielded?

"Look, give me some time Harbinger, I'm sure I can help you think of something" Bruniik said, placing a hand on Gunnar's heavy shoulder "In the mean time the curse sure as Oblivion isn't going anywhere and you still have to beat Alea to stop her from killing you, remember?"

Gunnar gave the dark haired elf a weary smile

"Right… speaking of hopeless endeavors, how are you enjoying the intimate attention of Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Hey, what can I say? Once you go Nord you don't go back" Bruniik grinned perversely.

They shared a laugh before Gunnar downed his mead and went to his broody knight side where he belonged.

* * *

Vilkas was about as unconscious as his wolf blood would allow him when Gunnar entered their room. The broody knight had stripped down to his breech-cloth and was sprawled out the bed, the blanket haphazardly tossed over his legs.

Smiling, Gunnar stripped off his own armor and underclothes before crawling in next to Vilkas, pulling him closer until his head was tucked underneath Gunnar's chin and his limp body was half draped across Gunnar's larger frame. Vilkas unconsciously snuggled against Gunnar, burying his face in the older Nord's throat.

Once settled, Gunnar listened to Vilkas' steady breath until he felt himself drift as well.

Right into a nightmare

* * *

_He was… running… running because there was a wolf running ahead, away, from him. Why he of all people would hunt a wolf was beyond him, but it felt important to catch the wolf before it returned to its pack. He did not want to wolf to return to the wild for some reason, he wanted to keep the wolf by his side, for all of time._

_He ran faster, driving himself further. But the wolf seemed to be getting ahead of him still._

_His armor was weighing him down, he could feel it. So he quickly stripped himself of it and continued running, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the wolf. But still not close enough!_

_What was weighing him down that he could strip away from himself to get to the wolf? He was starting to want to do anything to catch up…_

_He tossed aside his weapons, and soon stripped other things that he felt but really were not there but still weighing him down. He stripped himself of his name, of his morals and human wants and desires, of his memories, of his mortal connections, of his humanity, of all that would make him want to turn back. He stripped it all away._

_Finally, finally he caught up with the wolf. But when he reached out with his hands to grab it he found only wolf paws there._

_No! I gave up everything for you! You WILL NOT GET AWAY!_

_He pounced and landed on the wolf, ending up in a rough tumble until Gunnar found himself pinning the wolf against the ground, his pretty little wolf, his for the rest of time now that there was nothing holding him back._

_For a brief moment he thought he saw a handsome young man with dark war paint around his stunned eyes, but it was soon replaced with the wolf again._

"_Mine"_

_The trapped wolf wiggled around until it could playfully nipped his face. Accep-_

* * *

Pain shattered the dream and for several agonizing seconds Gunnar could not remember where he was, what his name was or what was going on. And then it all rushed back, allowing him to focus on the pain in his shoulder.

He craned his neck and realized that a brown haired head was in the way. It took several seconds to calm his hammering heart to really focus and then he could finally make out the details into place.

The head belonged to Vilkas. The pain was Vilkas' teeth which were currently buried into the muscle of Gunnar's shoulder. However despite likely tasting blood, his knight did not seem close to waking like he had been that one night. And after several seconds, it was obvious that Vilkas was not waking up anytime soon.

So shifting his weight, Gunnar managed to get his goof arm free and gently grab a hold of Vilkas' hair and gave it a few tugs until finally Vilkas roused himself, pulling his teeth from the bite wound

"Gunnar… that hurts" He grumbled, still semi conscious.

"Then how about you get yer lazy ass up sonny? I've been trying to get to the waste bucket" Gunnar said to say in a light tone despite the pain assailing him.

Vilkas grumbled and then rolled off Gunnar enough for the old Nord to gingerly get out of bed and stumble over to the cupboard were he stuffed the bandages, potions and medicines. He used Restoration magic for a great deal of the wound, downed two Healing Potions and then cleaned up the blood left behind before throwing on a tunic to hide the still tender scars.

After all that mess was taken care of, he managed to gently wipe the blood from Vilkas' face and got him to down swallow some water, saying that he was snoring and that it would help. And then?

Well he had no idea what to do. This was the second time Vilkas had attacked him in his sleep, what would happen if Vilkas got more violent. It was not like he was like his broody knight and could just forego sleep.

Not without accepting the curse.

And there was no way in Oblivion that was going to happen.

But… was there merit to his dream? Was he willing to strip everything away from himself for Vilkas? Was he willing to give everything to have that one thing?

He looked to Vilkas' sleep form, obvious to what he had done.

…Yes, yes he was… but not yet. There was still hope that it would not resort to that.


End file.
